


Crush

by theLazarus



Category: Greta Van Fleet (Band)
Genre: M/M, Office Romance, Teasing, covid au ?, work crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28350567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theLazarus/pseuds/theLazarus
Summary: They silently accepted that it was just the two of them for the foreseeable future, the rest of the office barren and quiet. The only thing that ever intercepted that was Sam’s squeaking chair, or the occasional laugh from his cubicle. God only knew what he looked at to create that loud guffaw that echoed through the place, punctuated by a squeak of that stupid chair...
Relationships: Sam Kiszka & Danny Wagner, Sam Kiszka/Danny Wagner
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	Crush

**Author's Note:**

> Just a cute little Sanny fic inspired by real life, except I'm the one with the squeaky chair and there's no work crush. But if Sam and Danny worked in my office, I know I'd have a lot of trouble focusing. I had fun imagining these two in such a mundane, ordinary work setting, honestly. To Lulu especially, I hope you enjoy!  
> Written as a gift for Lady lover, as part of 2020's A Very Kinky Rockfic Ficmas Fest. The prompt was 'Sam Kiszka,Danny Wagner (Greta Van Fleet): Literally anything except death.'

_Squeak_.

Danny turned quickly, glaring down the aisle at the only other person in the office, the only person who would make such an irritating sound all the time--Sam. Sam, with the long, chestnut hair pulled up in a haphazardly made bun, with sharp cheekbones that caught the sunlight through the window as he passed Danny in the halls, with the long legs that forced him to sit awkwardly too far away from his desk half the time. Sam with that goddamn squeaky chair.

“You could just switch,” Danny said loudly. He’d switched his chair a week ago, opting for one of the abandoned chairs that had better lumbar support from less frequent use.

“What?” Sam called back.

“Your chair,” Danny said, gesturing in irritation. “You could switch it. It squeaks a lot.”

“I like this one."

“It doesn’t bother you?”

Sam laughed. “Nope. I don’t even notice.”

“Well, I do,” Danny replied haughtily.

“Listen to some music,” Sam chirped. “It’s not like anyone else is here.”

Yeah, that was the problem. Everyone else had migrated to working remotely. Only Danny and Sam had stayed behind and Danny didn’t ask why. Sam didn’t either. They silently accepted that it was just the two of them for the foreseeable future, the rest of the office barren and quiet. The only thing that ever intercepted that was Sam’s squeaking chair, or the occasional laugh from his cubicle. God only knew what he looked at to create that loud guffaw that echoed through the place, punctuated by a squeak of that stupid chair.

Danny grumbled to himself and tried to continue with his work. His monotonous, seemingly never-ending work, made more boring by the fact that no one else was around. At least when the office was full, the sounds of chatter, clacking of keyboards, hum of the a/c, various beeps and near-constant footsteps on the floor blended into the background and created a symphony of white noise. He had learned to focus with that--with the squeaking chair and Sam’s presence, not so much.

It was irritating. The chair, yes, but also the little crush Danny had on Sam. Sam had caught his eye the moment he stepped into the office, looking like the last person to ever take up a job in a place like that. A new adult who was willing to take a soul-sucking job to pay his rent, later to fully embrace being a white collar stiff? Sam didn’t seem like the type. Danny imagined him lazing on a beach somewhere, selling handmade necklaces made of shells and grass out of a tent, or living in a beaten down RV somewhere in the desert, all tan skin and sweat. But Sam had stuck around and Danny’s crush had grown, entranced by the gangly pretty boy who ended up working three cubicles down from him.

He needed to get over it. It was probably just quarantine-fueled loneliness anyway. Danny got up to go to the water cooler, a small break from the incessant squeaking of that chair. In the breakroom, however, as he bent over to fill his water bottle, he felt the presence of someone lurking behind him. Who else but Sam?

Danny’s heart leapt when he turned around and saw him there. “Getting a lot done today?” Sam asked, chipper as ever, grabbing the coffee pot and moving toward the sink.

“Trying to,” Danny replied, feeling himself start to sweat with nerves. Damn! The crush was getting worse by the day. If only he knew what to say, how to broach an actual conversation. He and Sam spent 40 hours a week together but had seemed no closer than they were when Sam had first started. “It’s a little tough...you know, with that chair of yours.”

Sam turned the tap off and poured the water into the coffee maker, laughing. “I really do like that chair. I didn’t notice it squeaking until you pointed it out.” He backed himself up against the counter, eyes straight on Danny. “Probably because it was just part of the scene before. It’s weird not having anyone else around.”

Danny fumbled with the cap of his water bottle, trying to screw it back on. “Yeah. It’s really weird.” He paused; Sam kept looking at him. “It’s so quiet.”

Sam smiled. “ _You're_ so quiet, Danny.”

Danny shrugged. “It’s just how I am.”

“I like it. You force me to have to try and focus,” Sam said. “I can’t get away with goofing off anymore considering you’re my only audience.”

Danny chuckled awkwardly, nervously. “I’m sorry.”

Sam waved his hand. “Nah. I’d rather have you here than be totally alone.” He turned his head and paused, causing both of them to just listen to the gurgling and crackling of the coffee brewing, then asked, “What are you doing for lunch today?”

“I brought my--”

“Turkey sandwich?” Sam finished, smirking. “I figured. You’re a man of routine, aren’t you?”

“I guess so.” Yeah, Danny was. Meanwhile, he’d noticed Sam’s various lunches over the course of time--seeded bread stuffed with veggies, colorful salads, homemade (or so it seemed) soups, big bowls of fruit and yogurt. But Danny liked his routine. It made things easy--same shift, same lunch, same drive home.

“I forgot mine today,” Sam said, and Danny tried to remember if he’d seen a second lunch in the fridge, if Sam was fibbing for some reason. “So I was wondering if you wanted to save that turkey sandwich for tomorrow and I buy you lunch today.”

It was more of a statement than a question. Danny felt his armpits sweat even more, threatening to stain his shirt. Was Sam flirting or just being a nice coworker? Trying to extend some sort of office olive branch? Maybe he was just lonely and so bored he was willing to settle for lunch with Danny. Danny almost declined, but that would just be rude, and being rude was not something he ever wanted to be, and certainly not to such a pretty, albeit slightly annoying, guy.

“What did you want to get?” Danny asked.

Sam seemed to perk up even more at that response. The coffee machine gurgled one last time as the pot was filled; he grabbed a mug and poured it out, steam rising in his face. “There’s that little Thai place a few blocks away. Ever had it?”

“No. It’s good?”

Sam nodded, looking surprisingly a little shy but smiling even more. “They deliver. We wouldn’t even need to leave.”

So they ordered, after Danny nervously studied the menu on Sam’s phone, and of course he insisted on paying for his meal and the tip for the delivery driver. Sam was adamantly against that. “Next time,” he said. “You can buy lunch.”

That made Danny swoon a bit. There would be a next time?

They sat in the break room together for the first time. Danny had usually taken his lunch to his desk; Sam always went to the break room alone. Together, it was nice and, despite Danny’s nerves, he found that the conversation between them flowed naturally, fluidly. Sam was really smart, like, almost intimidating with how smart he was, and had a lot of strong opinions on things; he seemed to appreciate Danny’s easy-going nature and willingness to debate in such a relaxed way, smiling at him as they ate and chatted, making Danny’s heart race. Danny felt bad that it had taken so long for the two of them to actually have a real conversation, to sit together and shoot the shit like coworkers normally do. Except he also realized that the crush on Sam wasn’t something he had on every coworker. Far from. And the crush was getting more pervasive with every second--even the way Sam twirled his plastic fork in the noodles was intriguing to Danny.

The time flew by, it really did. Eventually Sam looked at his phone and the hour was almost up; Danny didn’t want to go back to his desk. He was content to sit with Sam at the shoddy grey table underneath the fluorescent lights and talk the rest of the day away.

“You think they’d even notice if we, like, stopped working?” Sam asked with a chuckle, locking his phone and turning it over. “I swear, they don’t notice shit, man.”

“How can they?” Danny replied. “There’s no accountability anymore.”

“You get your work done, though,” Sam noted with a small smile. “I hear you typing. I hear you sigh in frustration, actually. But my squeaky chair is the annoying thing?”

“A little,” Danny said quietly. Now he felt bad about being so irritated by the chair. Maybe he was trying to deflect his feelings. Maybe that was some introspection he’d have to save for another day--he wanted to savor the lunch break and his time with Sam. If anything, he’d made a new friend, and he valued that above all else. He took a sip of his tea and said, “I’m sorry if it’s been awkward--that it’s taken us so long to actually talk.”

“For looking kind of intimidating, you’re definitely not,” Sam replied, lifting his own plastic cup of tea; Danny caught another little smirk behind it. “So handsome, though. I bet it works in your favor.”

Okay, _that_ was definitely flirting, right? Danny nearly choked on the tea. “I mean--I don’t know--” He could be smooth when he wanted to be--and Sam was right, girls did like his tall, built stature and dark looks--but this coworker Sam, of all people, was making him impossibly flustered. Looking like an idiot, Danny felt. He took another, composed sip of tea before he spoke again: “I’m not intimidating. So I’m glad you know now. You can always talk to me.” He looked down at his nearly-empty take-out container. “I’d like to talk to you more.”

When Danny looked up again, Sam wasn’t even trying to hide how much he was beaming, impossibly white teeth on display as he smiled wide, brown eyes catching the glow of the overhead lights. “Me too.” He stood up and placed his hand on Danny’s shoulder, just for a moment, before he went to the fridge to put his leftovers away. “I guess our time is up, huh?”

Even though the contact was so short-lived, it felt like Sam had left an imprint on him. Danny glanced over at his shoulder where it still felt warm and slightly rustled from Sam’s hand: “I can try.” Trying was all he’d be able to do now after that. He knew he’d be thinking about Sam touching him for the rest of the day, and on the drive home, and while he unlocked his door, and while he laid in bed.

He wished the walk back to their cubicles would last longer but it only took a few seconds before they had to split up and hide themselves away again, to lock their eyes to computer screens instead of to each other. Danny almost jumped when Sam sidled up to him, his slight body barely even noticeable until he was right there, and said, “You smell really good.”

Thank god for that--his nervous sweating hadn’t ruined him. Danny chuckled shakily and felt himself blush horrendously, suddenly glad he could duck into his cubicle and spare Sam the sight. “Thanks.” Before Sam was completely out of his sight, leaving his own fragrance of teakwood and amber lingering in the air, Danny peeked his head out from the walls of his cubicle and said, “You smell really good too.”

Sam beamed again, that glowing smile taking up his face, and Danny was a little taken aback--and pleased--to see a blush creep over his cheeks as well. “Thanks, Danny.” He took a few steps backwards, still smiling as the blush bloomed over his cheekbones and then his nose, and knocked himself back against his own cubicle with a quiet “whoops.” Danny laughed, relief washing over him even as his heart raced and, as he seemed to gain his usual composure, Sam said, “Guess I’ll see you in a few hours. You can walk me to my car.” He grinned but his eyes fell to the floor, casting a downward glance of shyness Danny didn’t expect. “Seeing as how you’re so intimidating. At least in the looks department.”

For a moment, Danny wasn’t sure what to say. The flirtation was so obvious now that he felt like he was dreaming. After another beat he came back with, “Keep that chair quiet and I will.”

Sam threw his head back with a laugh and disappeared into his cubicle. “I’ll try my best,” he called out, but Danny heard the chair squeak as Sam sat down and then a smug little snicker. With his heart seemingly never going to slow down with his crush giggling to himself, it was definitely going to be a long afternoon.


End file.
